


Whiteout

by dansunedisco



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Awesome Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis-centric, Darcy and Jane are BFFs, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Female Friendship, Gen, Humor, Odin's A+ Parenting, Pop Culture, Sassy, Snow, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansunedisco/pseuds/dansunedisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A long time ago, in a land subjectively far, far away, there was a King who ruled the Frost Giants. He was kind of a douche, according to his little section in the Poetic Edda, but Darcy had long taken Norse folklore with a giant pile of salt.</i>
</p><p>A very, very loose re-telling of <i>The Snow Queen</i>. The Jotun invade Earth, snowmageddon arrives shortly thereafter, and somehow it's up to Darcy Lewis to save the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The God in the Grocery Store

A long time ago, in a land subjectively far, far away, there was a King who ruled the Frost Giants. He was kind of a douche, according to his little section in the _Poetic Edda_ , but Darcy had long taken Norse folklore with a giant pile of salt. Long ago being a little over year since running over _the_ Thor, God of Thunder, with a crappy van, her underwhelming graduation from higher learning, and continued servitude to one Doctor Jane Foster. Her current employment wasn’t exactly where Darcy had pictured herself, and there was a teensy-tiny bit of coercion involved (Agent Coulson + threats + Mexican prison = a very persuaded Darcy), but she couldn’t complain. 

So when the YouTube videos of giant blue people making homes in Norway’s mountain range (yes, really) made the news, instead of freaking out like the rest of the world, Darcy calmly poked Jane in the shoulder and bit into her apple. It took a solid three minutes before Jane lifted her eyes from her laptop to the TV set, then another twenty seconds before she audibly gasped.

“Dude, I know,” Darcy replied. “I’m taking the road of ‘they come in peace’ instead of ‘they want us in pieces’. I wonder if they brought tauntauns with them?” 

“This is bad,” murmured Jane. The look on her face screamed that she was currently imagining Thor in Norway, strung up by his ankles in an ice cave. “Really, really bad.”

Darcy shrugged. She was the worst at being supportive. “If I see a tauntaun, I am totally gonna be like ‘I wanna be inside you’.”

“Darcy,” said Jane, in her best admonishing voice. 

“Yeesh, my bad. So what do we do?”

Jane bit her lip. It was clear she was rapidly calculating ways to contact her Very Own Norse God. Since the incident with the Aether, Thor had been dispatched, yet again, on diplomatic (or not-so-diplomatic) missions throughout the Nine Realms, making their relationship quite the long distance conundrum. He was unable to ‘see her without hem-dolls’ (whatever the hell that meant), and the cellphone Jane had furnished him didn’t work in other universes. It was complicated, and Darcy wasn’t a fan.

“I never thought I would say this,” said Jane, wringing her hands together nervously, “but I think we should call SHIELD.”

Darcy glared. “They threatened me with prison if I quit working with you.”

“Prison might do you some good.”

Darcy huffed, and made Jane wait until she finished her entire apple (core, seeds and all) before she looked ‘Jackbooted thugs’ up in the office rolodex.

**\--**

 

“I need to speak with Agent Coulson.”

“Ma’am, I understand that you’d really like to speak with an Agent Coulson, but this is _Sunshine Flowers_ , and no Agent Coulson works here.”

Darcy covered the phone mic with her hand and screamed. She took a deep breath, removed her hand, and continued: “Look, dude, I get it—you have to keep things under wraps, yadda yadda, world secrets and Ray Bans, but please, for the love of my sanity, just put me through to your overlord!”

The lackey on the line sighed loudly. “Wait one.”

Jane looked up from munching on her Pop-Tart when Darcy groaned. “On hold again?”

“Yep. You’d think they would’ve hung up by now, if they really weren’t a super duper secret organization… just sayin’.”

The phone line clicked on. “Miss Lewis?”

“Um, yes?” Darcy definitely hadn’t given Phone Lackey her name.

“We understand that you are concerned about the video, but this number was given to Doctor Foster for emergency situations only. As far as I can tell, you and the Doctor are sitting in her lab, eating highly processed sugars, safe and sound.”

“Um.” Darcy shrugged helplessly in Jane’s direction, who was vigorously miming ‘put it on speakerphone’. Darcy button-mashed.

“Hey! Hi. This is Doctor Foster speaking,” said Jane. She grimaced. “What should we do? Can we help?”

“Ah, no,” replied Agent Coulson. He’d probably received a brief on Jane’s alien technology infection and wanted her far, far away from the action. Just in case. “Please remain calm, stay far away from Norway, and let us do our job.”

He then hung up. Dial tone filled the lab.

“I think we just got dissed,” said Darcy, eyes shifting around the room, wondering if they were actually under constant surveillance, or if Agent Coulson was just really, really good at guessing. She hoped the latter, because she changed behind the big cabinet sometimes, and taking a huge dump on personal privacy was totally not cool. 

For all her internal grumblings, Darcy’s ire was short-lived: Jane tried calling Coulson back three times, and each time got redirected to a massage parlor.

 

\--

 

Despite the international freak-out, life in Puente Antiguo continued on as normal. Darcy cycled between hugging her degree and sobbing, finding Erik pants to wear, and sassing Jane.

Then, one morning, it started to snow.

Flurries drifted down from the pale blue sky, where the sun still shone brightly. The snow came down slowly, but steadily, and didn’t stop. Work stopped, though, and the curious came out to watch. Everything was covered with a fine powder of snow before Puente Antiguo could collectively blink.

And Darcy had a really, really bad feeling about it all.

“Should we go get more… supplies? Canned goods? Nonperishables? Blankets?” She stood at the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out towards the desert, her hands pressed against the cold glass. 

“It’s just a little snow,” said Jane.

“Don’t be the voice of denial, boss,” replied Darcy. Her breath fogged up the glass. “We’ve both seen enough doomsday flicks to _not_ be at least a smidge concerned that it’s SNOWING.” 

“It’s snows in New Mexico. It’s normal.”

“This is the first snowfall Puente Antiguo has had in over fifty years!” She had Googled and everything.

“Darcy!” Jane groaned, and lifted her hands in the air like she was praying. “Go buy whatever you want. Just… shoo!”

Darcy rolled her eyes, and drew a giant penis on the fogged glass before she left.

 

\--

 

The grocery store was empty. “It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas _”_ was playing softly over the speakers. A fluorescent light flickered in one of the ceiling panels.

Darcy felt like she was in _28 Days Later_.

She walked down each aisle briskly, occasionally looking over her shoulder for zombies. Y’know, just in case. Though she knew (or, rather, hoped) she was safe, there was a tension in the air she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The snow, Jane’s adamant denial of what said snow indicated, and the video of Norway… it was all bad juju.

Darcy passed by the canned soups and paused, picking up a hearty veggie medley she figured Jane would tolerate. She started loading up, balancing the cans in her arms as she went.

“Ahem.”

Darcy shrieked and the cans went crashing down. Two whacked right onto her toes, and the others skittered away down the aisle.

“HOLY FUCK!” she yelled, torn between ripping her comfy but ultimately not-steel-toed shoe off to see if she actually had toes left, and scrambling after the soup cans.

The stranger picked up the cans at his feet, and placed them in Darcy’s cart. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you so.”

“You don’t look very sorry, dude,” sniped Darcy. Pain and frustration was a surefire way to make the filter between her mouth and brain disappear, though her statement was an actual observation. Mr. Ahem was smiling, but not in an ‘I’m embarrassed, oh look how sheepish I am’ kind of way. “Okay, that was a bit rude on my part. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to slink up behind me.” 

“Understandable,” the stranger conceded. He tilted his head to the side, as if sizing Darcy up. “Well, sorry again about your foot. I’m new to the area, and I’m trying to get directions. I haven’t had any luck with finding a clerk. Could you help me?”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. There was something familiar, yet disconcerting about him. His accent was posh, but not entirely British, and he was effusing a strange type of charm—as if willing her with the lilt of his words to go along with his request without thinking about the consequences. Her instincts screamed to run far, far away. “Maybe? I’m pretty new to Puente Antiguo myself,” she lied.

“That’s fine,” he said lightly, but his easy-going expression hardened, as if he knew Darcy had just lied to him. “I’m looking for Doctor Jane Foster.”

“Um, yeaaaah, I have no idea who that is.” Another downside to having a defective brain-mouth filter was that it made Darcy a really terrible liar.

The stranger took a half-step towards Darcy, and Darcy could only watch in growing trepidation as he began to unravel in front of her. Whatever charm he’d had before had vanished, replaced with a cold fury that was truly frightening. “Your poor attempt at deception was amusing, mortal, but I do not have time for it any longer. Show me to Jane Foster immediately.”

 _Mortal?_ Darcy tilted her head to the side. Squinted a little. And then promptly had a mini heart attack.

“YOU!” she gasped out. She stabbed a hand into her purse in search of her trusty taser.

“Yes. _Me._ ” 

The face. The voice. The crazy eyes.

 _Loki._  

Thor’s psychotic little brother was here. Looking for Jane. In a grocery store. He’d stopped in for freakin’ directions. Darcy’s chest heaved in panic. He looked positively delighted at the turn of events. 

The weird thing was that he was remarkably unrecognizable sans helmet and BDSM leather. Still, Darcy was screaming internally. How had she not immediately identified Earth’s #1 baddie? Maybe it was the fluorescent lighting? It was totally not doing him any favors. 

Finally, her fingertips brushed the hard plastic of her taser. She wasted no time in whipping it out. She pressed the button, and watched as the metal prongs latched onto Loki’s shirt and sent him convulsing to the linoleum with 500,000 volts. She expected him to spring up like Khan and end her, but he remained on the ground, twitching here and there.

“Oh. My. God.” There were tears in her eyes. Literal tears. She bent over. “Sweet Jesus.”

She plopped down onto her ass, no longer able to stand with her legs trembling like she’d run a full marathon.

A positive of the situation? She hadn’t peed herself.

She dialed Jane’s cell, and prayed she wasn’t too annoyed to take the call.

 

\--

 

In hindsight, calling Jane was probably the worst idea Darcy had ever had. Ever.

One: Loki had specifically said he wanted Jane. Past experience dictated that that was probably _not_ a good thing. Throne of Asgard. The tesseract. Earth. The list was getting kinda long, like a demented Christmas wish list.

Two: Jane was a super annoying mother hen. She was quick to say Darcy drove her crazy, but she sure had no problem turning around and telling Darcy to put a jacket on when it was cold out or whatever. Not cool, considering that Jane had barely kept it together when Thor had rocketed back to space. Pot, kettle—please mingle.

So, yeah. Bad idea.

“Darcy! What were you thinking?” Jane whispered harshly. She was holding a wooden baseball bat aloft. Her eyes were trained on Loki’s supine, twitchy form. She’d arrived like the cavalry soon after Darcy’s distress call, and had been giving Darcy the third degree since.

The main topic of discussion was Loki, and what to do with him. 

“I don’t know! I wasn’t? What else was I supposed to do? Kneel? Show him to your lair?” Darcy tightened the grip on her other weapon of choice: a broom. She’d used the second taser charge when Loki had groaned. “He was all ‘excuse me, wench, I’m looking for Jane Foster’, and I was like ‘yeah right, buddy, get lost, but my do you familiar’. Then he got all pissy, and I recognized his grumpy cat scowl from TV… and then I tased him. Y’know, you should be thankful I’m here to look after your virtue!”

“He shouldn’t even _be_ here. I saw him die,” said Jane, astutely ignoring most of Darcy’s rant. She shook her head. “He died in Thor’s arms. He turned blue, and _died_. How is he here?”

“God of Mischief and Lies, remember?” Darcy prodded Loki’s boot with the end of her broom. “He doesn’t have the best track record with being honest, so tell me again why this is a surprise?”

Jane’s frown deepened. “How could he do that to Thor? God, he’s such a jerk!”

“That he is,” agreed Darcy. “But, um, Jane… we really should go. I know I called you here, but that was kind of a panicky fluke, and I couldn’t move my legs. But we should go now. Like, pack up the essentials, put Erik in the back of the van, and hightail it out of here. It’s been, eh, fifteen minutes. He’s probably going to wake up any second and start rampaging.” 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go. That’s a good idea,” said Jane. 

“God, are you in shock?” Darcy groaned. “C’mon!”

“No objections, but—um. Should I?” Jane took a slow practice swing in the direction of Loki’s head.

“The fuck? No!” Darcy grabbed Jane’s forearm, and tugged her along to the exit. “I love your enthusiasm, but I don’t think that’s necessary. Yet.”

Jane hadn’t quite been the same since her excellent adventure in Asgard. The Jane that’d left wasn’t the one Thor had returned with, and Darcy recognized it in the little things. Like her lack of compunction when it came to whacking a downed man, deranged God or not, in the head with a baseball bat. 

Speaking of deranged Gods… Darcy looked over her shoulder. Loki was still lying in the middle of the aisle. He looked so young and sick when he wasn’t glaring.  

It didn’t feel completely right to leave him.

She was sure Thor would be frowning in grand disapproval if he were a fly on the wall, too, (and since when did Thor become her Jiminy Cricket?). But what other choice did they have? Loki hadn’t outright threatened her with death or maiming if she refused him. In fact, he had asked—well, rudely demanded—that she take him to Jane.

Thor had sworn up and down that Loki was a good guy, that his attempt at subjugating Earth was a cry for help. Perhaps acting an ass was customary to a Prince. Maybe she’d been a little too trigger-happy? 

But then she remembered Erik, the lack of pants, the epic mind-fuck he’d endured, and the only thought she had was: _Nah._

 

\--

 

“You could’ve told me the nuclear winter happened while I was out, Jane!” 

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” Jane shivered violently. “It wasn’t like this when I drove over!”

Indeed, the light dusting of snow that had been falling when Darcy left was now a full-on blizzard. Darcy had bundled into her coziest sweater, scarf, and beanie combination before she’d trekked out, but her pathetic excuse for winter wear was no match for the current arctic-like weather. The cute winter wonderland version of Puente Antiguo was gone, replaced with a frozen over version of hell.

Darcy wanted to scream “I told you so” in Jane’s face, but she refrained.

The wind howled and lashed at Darcy’s exposed skin. Body parts she didn’t even know she had were frozen, and it felt like tiny knives were stabbing her repeatedly in the face. She had been through a few snowstorms in her day, but nothing compared to _this_. The danger of Loki was rapidly becoming a secondary concern to the impending hypothermia-frostbite-snow death.

“Where did you park the van?” she screamed into Jane’s ear.

Jane pointed a trembling arm to their left, where two tiny beams of light could be seen shining through the darkness.

While getting to the van probably took only a few minutes, it felt like an eternity. Darcy had never been happier to see the old rusted thing. She yanked the driver’s side door open, threw Jane up into the cab, crawled in after her, and slammed the door shut before a gale of wind could blow her away. 

Jane cranked the heat on high, and then flopped into the passenger seat. She was shivering like a neurotic Chihuahua, and her teeth were chattering so badly it took her a full minute to say, “Y-you were right, D-Darcy…”

“Aw, c’mon. You just took my ‘I told you so’ moment.” Darcy pouted. “It’s cool, though. You totally saved my life. If you hadn’t brought the van, we’d be toast.”

“More like ice c-cubes.”

Darcy snorted in laughter. “You just made a joke!”

Jane gave her a tight-lipped smile. “It won’t happen again. P-promise.”

 

\--

 

The lab was freezing.

It had taken nearly thirty minutes of careful drifting to make it down the street, and then another ten minutes to walk through the blizzard to their front door. Darcy was stunned Jane hadn’t made a grab for the wheel every time she’d gotten a little too close to an immovable object, but Darcy figured Jane had learned her lesson with Thor.

As soon as they’d made it inside, Jane had run off to make several phone calls, and Darcy went in search of the thermostat. Darcy tapped it with her index finger. The little arrow hand bobbed sadly. Darcy cursed. She had cranked the dial on high heat fifteen minutes ago, but the vents were still only sputtering out lukewarm air. Dying a slow, cold death wasn’t how Darcy wanted to go, but all signs were starting to point in that direction.

It was hard not to flail. 

Darcy was good at keeping a level head. Giant metal monster razing her town to the ground? No biggie. Creepy elves trying to convert the world into dark matter? No problem! She was the sassy voice of reason, but there was no reasoning with the snow and the cold.

They were running low on supplies (totally not her fault), and, from what she gathered from Jane’s angry yelling, no one was coming for them anytime soon. Loki was literally right around the corner, and she was sure he had woken up pissed and ready to choke a bitch. The van wasn’t snow-worthy, so driving a long distance away was out. They would have to wait, and pray Loki, hypothermia, or starvation didn’t get to them before a rescue did. 

By the time Darcy got over her sniffling and came out from the back room, Jane had changed into dry clothes.

“So… do you think the snow is normal now?” asked Darcy. She was aiming to make Jane crack a smile in self-deprecation, but she earned an annoyed look instead.

“Don’t make fun of me,” replied Jane. The rolodex was torn apart on her desk. “I already said I was wrong.”

Darcy sighed. “Sorry. You know I get all snarky whenever things get crazy. Our current snowpocalypse is pretty freakin’ nuts, so… yeah. Do you think Loki has anything to do with this?”

Jane paled, as if she had forgotten all about him. “I don’t know. I… I just wish…”

“Thor was here?” Darcy said softly.

Jane nodded. “It’s pathetic. A little spot of trouble and all I want is my big, strong hammer-wielding boyfriend. My father would be so disappointed.”

“Dude, it’s not pathetic. Everyone needs a little TLC when the going gets rough. If Thor could be here, he would be. The last time you got sucked into a vortex, he showed up, like, five seconds later. Maybe the Bifrost is going haywire because of all this wacky snow? Maybe Mew-Mew gives really bad directions when the weather is crappy?”

“Maybe.” Jane laughed softly. She flicked a torn piece of index paper to the floor. “Can you check on Erik for me? I’m going to keep calling around.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Darcy found Erik sleeping soundly on his cot. It was where she’d left him earlier in the day. Catnaps were his preferred hobby these days, due to nightmares that left him with energy for little else the next day. The dementia he suffered at the hands of Loki’s mind alteration was terrible, and no one could give them an estimate on whether or not he would ever recover.

Darcy tucked Erik’s blanket higher up under his chin, and hoped that the heat would kick in soon, for all of their sakes.


	2. The Handmaiden's Woe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to extend a giant heap of gratitude towards [Yavannie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavannie/pseuds/Yavannie) for beta reading this. Now, everyone go read 'Shine Without Fear'!

Darcy hit redial. Her phone rang, and rang, then rang some more.

Thirty rings and no progress later, she threw her cellphone down none too gently on the breakfast table. It landed face side-up, completely unharmed.

 _Stupid unbreakable piece of crap_ , Darcy thought bitterly.

Jane stopped typing on her laptop. "Darcy?"

"Yes?"

Jane pointed to the cellphone.

"Oh, right. Um, I reached voicemail this time," Darcy lied. She'd been trying to contact her parents for the past hour, with absolutely no luck.

"Why didn't you leave a message?"

"Oh, you know me. I wasn't thinking. Heard the beep and freaked out." Darcy studied her cuticles in a shoddy attempt to avoid Jane's suspicious gaze. She hated lying to Jane's face (sorry, not sorry), but she knew the big sister routine would start up the second Jane caught a whiff of Darcy's panic. They needed to formulate a plan of action, and the less time Jane spent worrying over everyone else, the better.

"Next time," said Jane confidently. "They'll answer."

Darcy nodded, but her hope was dwindling, and fast.

The landline had dropped while Jane was in a one-sided screaming match with SHIELD. Watching Jane turn so red she was practically purple was a rare delight, but then the cable had switched off while they'd been eating a very rationed dinner. It was clear that the hang-up wasn't another 'annoy Jane' tactic, courtesy of Agent Coulson. The Internet had died shortly thereafter. Their cellphones still rang, but no one answered.

The not-so-cheery sound of the emergency broadcast system remained as their background noise. Darcy had suggested playing her iPod, but Jane had argued that they should remain on the alert for any and all changes. For once, Darcy hadn't had the energy to offer a counterpoint.

The only small comfort they had was that they were safe (for the time being), and in no danger of freezing to death. Darcy had managed to kick-start the central air in a fit of anger after they'd lost the TV signal. Lots of swearing, and a good, sound hit with Jane's baseball bat had done the trick. Still, they had to bundle up in whatever was available. Giant glass windows were terrible insulators.

Darcy sighed, and propped her chin on her palm. The snowfall had lightened somewhat, but it was still too dark to see further than the parking lot. Which was fine. Great, even.  _Things_  could be lurking out there in the snowdrifts, and Darcy didn't want to deal with that reality just yet. She recalled the YouTube video, the blue people carving into the mountainside with huge icepicks, and how naïve she'd been.

If she hadn't learned from Loki, or the Chitauri, or the Dark Elves—well, she was an educated woman now. Everyone wanted a piece of Earth, but no one cared about its inhabitants.

Darcy shivered. It wasn't from the cold.

 

 

\--

 

"Hour two.

I inventoried our food supplies. We have three boxes of Pop-Tarts (two s'mores, one brown sugar type); ten packets of ramen noodles; a half-eaten jar of apricot jam (50% reduced sugar; gross); wheat bread (slightly mold-covered; saving for potential future, desperate situations); packet of tropical fruit skittles; giant tub of butter (32 oz); seven tangerines.

It's only a matter of time before Jane kills me in my sleep, and consumes my flesh for sustenance."

Darcy stared at her cellphone screen.

"Keep it together, Lewis," she said, and tapped the 'off' button on the video app.

 

 

\--

 

"Hour three.

Erik woke up from his nap and ranted about Frost Giants for twenty-seven minutes. I timed it and everything. He had sweatpants on, so I think we're making progress?

Jane's been scribbling away in her ferret hole, which I'm taking as a good sign, too. I've been trying to feed her Pop-Tarts, but every time I get close, she eyes my arm. I'm afraid she's gonna go in for a nibble sooner or later.

As for me? Well, I'm hangin' in there."

 

 

\--

 

Jane snapped on Hour Six.

"This is crazy. We need to do  _something_!"

Darcy sat upright, and wiped away a trail of drool from her cheek.

Jane slammed her laptop closed. "We can't just sit here day and night, and expect someone to rescue us!"

Darcy gaped. "Um… not trying to insult your intelligence here or anything, but we're kind of stuck. Y'know,  _snow_."

"For now, yes," replied Jane. Determination shone in her eyes. "I have an idea."

"You've created a prototype for a gigantic space heater?" Darcy shook her imaginary pompoms. "Sa-weet!"

"If I roll my eyes one more time today, they will pop out of my skull." Jane stalked over to where Darcy sat, and flipped her notepad open. "It's obvious the blue giant things are the cause of all this snow."

Darcy straightened up, motioned for Jane to continue, and readied her brain to be assaulted by Jane's brand of crazy.

"I made a little timeline. See, here." Jane turned the notepad around, and tapped a crudely drawn chart.

Equations and symbols covered the page. Darcy had no idea what any of it meant, but she nodded like she did.

"They arrived in Norway," continued Jane. "This weather didn't reach us for five days. By my calculations, and there's no way to be  _completely_  sure without taking the equipment out, most of the Earth will be covered very, very soon."

Darcy boggled at the estimate. "Wow, fuck. I hope you're wrong. Again."

Jane shot her a sharp look of annoyance. "I asked a lot of questions when I was on Asgard. Long story short, Thor mentioned a Casket. I did some digging, and I think he was referencing the Casket of Ancient Winters."

Jane handed Darcy a torn piece of paper. It showed a cartoony illustration of a copper-colored box. It had a skull for a lock. Rudimentary runes were etched into the body.

Darcy raised her eyebrow. "Is this from that kid's book Erik bought when Thor came to town?"

"The one and only," Jane said, visibly bothered. The fact that it wasn't from an ancient tome or respected journal likely rubbed her the wrong way. "It's obviously not the best source of information, but it's all we have right now. The Casket is supposed to contain the power of a thousand massive snowstorms."

"Hm. Ancient Winters," said Darcy thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "I'd say it fits our situation perfectly. So you think these blue guys got their hands on the Casket, blasted the world with whatever magic juju it has, and brought the second Ice Age with them?"

"Pretty much. Whatever SHIELD tried to do, or is trying to do, is not working. Clearly," said Jane, pointing outside dramatically. "The Earth as we know it can't sustain the cold for much longer. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to sit back and watch the world freeze over."

Darcy sighed. That sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was back, and ten times worse than it had been before. "So, what's the plan?"

"We need to figure out where they're keeping the Casket… and close it."

Darcy smacked her lips. "I really, really wish I had a balloon so I could deflate it right meow."

"Be serious!" admonished Jane.

"I can't be serious! You want to… to close a hypothetical box!" Darcy snapped back. She waved the picture of the Casket. "This is a cartoon. It was drawn with a freakin' crayon."

Jane groaned, and tugged her hair in frustration. "Thor is real. Loki is real.  _Asgard_  is real. The Casket, if you follow my logic, must also be real. Why are you being so contrary right now?"

"My bad, dude. Okay, sure. Let's just shimmy on up to Norway, handle a magical object that may or may not really exist. Oh wait, you did that before, with terrible results!" Darcy's sarcasm levels were tipping dangerously over into obnoxious, but she didn't care.

Jane's expression hardened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you implying that the Aether thing was my fault?"

"Your fault—oh."  _Frigga_  was the unspoken name between them, and Darcy immediately felt like the biggest asshole ever. Jane hadn't outright claimed responsibility for her death, but Darcy knew it haunted her. "If I had a dollar for every time I inserted my foot into my mouth, I would be so, so rich."

"Yeah," agreed Jane. Her face crumpled, and she sniffled, and suddenly the lab seemed like a very, very small place.

Darcy jumped up from her seat, and pulled Jane into an awkward, one-armed hug. "No crying. We're gonna save the day again, okay? Tell me more about your shitty plan."

Jane's wiped her flannel sleeve across her face. "You're not going to like this next part."

Darcy squeezed Jane tightly. "Try me."

"Loki," said Jane.

Darcy snorted. "Ha. For a second I thought you said Loki."

Jane grimaced.

Darcy pulled back. "Wait, wait, hold up. You wanted to whack him—your boyfriend's crazy little bro, who, in case you forgot, tried to  _conquer_  Earth—in the  _head_  with a  _baseball bat_  earlier today, and now you want to ask him for world saving advice?"

"It doesn't sound so great when you put it like that, but… yes. He… well, he sort of helped with the Dark Elf situation. Granted, I think he agreed mainly so he'd get out of the dungeons, and then he played dead, but still. Help is help."

"Mmm, yeaaaah, no. This is where I draw the line. See, I'm drawing a line right now. Driving us into a desert tornado was borderline forgivable… but… Loki? Absolutely no way. What if he's behind this whole mess?"

Jane sighed, and plucked the Casket illustration out of Darcy's hand. "I'm not saying it's my best and brightest, but it's all we've got. Let's face the facts: Thor isn't coming. SHIELD isn't coming. No one is coming. We might be the only ones with the answer, and he could help."

"Or he could  _murder_  us. I tasered him. Twice. It's a miracle he hasn't smashed through the front door already. Totally not trying to tempt fate here, but yes: miracle!"

"I know it's a bad idea. Trust me, Darcy, I really do. But, if you aren't coming down to the Mini Mart with me, I'll just go alone."

A gust of wind battered against the windows. The glass shook violently.

Darcy swallowed thickly. "Well,  _that's_  not comforting at all."

 

 

\--

 

Darcy was a good person.

Not a saint, by any stretch. She annoyed Jane regularly and on purpose, and loathed the fact that she was still in New Mexico, but she was, for all intents and purposes, good. She had sound morals, and compassion, and that damn ASPCA commercial for homeless kittens always got her to tear up. But, right now? She wanted to be a terrible person. A terrible person wouldn't feel guilt, and, without guilt, she wouldn't be trekking out into the snowy unknown with a crazy person.

"We can still go back," tempted Darcy. She tugged the rope that tied her to Jane, then once more, for the full annoyance factor.

Jane jerked the line back. "For the last time: NO. And stop pulling on the rope!"

Darcy shrugged one shoulder. Jane turned back around with a huff.

The van had been completely snowed under, and Jane's brilliant alternative to driving was to snowshoe into town with a backpack full of equipment. None of which Darcy had agreed to lug around. Jane was currently walking back and forth, holding a gadget in the air, and muttering about base readings and data extrapolation.

Darcy sighed, and sent a longing look over her shoulder.

Erik stood at the door to the lab in all his pants-less glory. He waved, and Darcy wiggled her fingers in reply. He had said a few ominous phrases before they'd left, but Jane's constitution was unflappable. Darcy, on the other hand, was not feeling it. Aforementioned  _things_  (or Loki) could be lurking around every corner, and Jane was often too wrapped up in her own head to pay 100% attention to her surroundings. It was a recipe for disaster.

"I better be getting a pay raise for this," Darcy muttered, and hitched the baseball bat over her shoulder.

 

 

\--

 

Puente Antiguo was a snowed-over ghost town. A truck Darcy recognized as the furniture store owner's was in the street, staged like he'd tried to flee but had ultimately been stopped by the weather. Any trail he might have left behind had long been swept away by the wind. There were no faces in the windows watching them pass by, nor any lights on to indicate that there might be someone inside. The only light was from the street lamps, and it barely cut through the gray overcast. It was pure luck that the lab was a straight shot back to Main Street. They would have been royally screwed otherwise.

Darcy shivered. The snowfall had stopped, but the icy breeze was on full effect. Flurries came off the top of the snow banks, and stuck to Darcy's eyelashes. Her cheeks were cold. Her eyebrows hurt. She was chilled to the bone, and cursing Jane's entire existence.

Jane had taken point from the beginning, while Darcy kept an eye peeled (as much as she could with the low visibility), and tried not to whimper every time she heard a weird noise off in the distance. She was beginning to get a crick in her neck from all the times she's snapped her head to the side, and couldn't shake the feeling that something… or someone… was trailing them.

Darcy tugged on the rope. "Jane. Jane.  _Jane_."

"What?" snapped Jane.

"Why don't we try knocking on some doors?"

"Loki first."

Darcy wanted to argue, but Jane was already back in deep concentration over her notebook. Darcy took a deep breath, and rationalized. It had been over eight hours since her encounter with Loki. He hadn't hurt her, or threatened her—because she was too small of fish to fry or because he'd turned a new "no killing" leaf, she hadn't yet decided. Frankly, she didn't want to have proof of either option. Still, the chances of him sticking around were slim. Surely he had better things to do if he hadn't bothered tracking Jane back to the lab.

"Loki first," echoed Darcy.

 _Yes_ , she thought. They were going to be fine. Totally, 100% fine.

And that's when a deafening roar erupted into the night's air.

Jane fumbled her notebook into the snow.

"What the hell was that?" asked Darcy, staring wide-eyed into the distance. She was no expert on animals, but she was fairly sure that nothing in New Mexico was capable of making such a sound.

Another roar boomed out, drawn out and more guttural than the last. Darcy was pretty sure the ground shook on that one.

"We need to get out of here," hissed Darcy. "Right now!"

"My notebook!" was Jane's panicked reply.

Darcy grabbed Jane by the lapels of her jacket and hauled her to her feet. "Screw the notebook! Mini Mart!"

They ran.

Darcy dragged in breath after icy breath, pumping her arms and legs, practically hopping into the indents Jane's boots left in the snow. It didn't take long before her thighs and calves burned.

Why, oh why had she let her conscience convince her to tag along?

They crashed through the front door of the Mini Mart not a second too soon, Jane first, with Darcy following a little too quickly behind. She tripped over Jane's foot and landed sideways on the linoleum, banging her hip soundly on the unforgiving floor. Darcy howled in pain. The baseball bat clattered to the ground and rolled away. She was too stunned to scramble to her feet, or do much more than whine.

Jane dragged her behind the register.

"I think it's broken, doc," whimpered Darcy.

"I doubt it. But you'll definitely have a nice bruise to show for it," said Jane. "Stay here."

"Where else am I supposed to go?"

Jane tapped her lips with her finger. She untied the rope around her waist and coiled the slack up next to Darcy, then snuck around the register in a low crouch.

Darcy sat up with a garbled groan. Her hip hurt something fierce, but Jane was right. It wasn't broken. She undid the rope around her own waist, and scooted around on her backside so that her back was pressed up against the register siding.

The Mini Mart was just as deserted as it had been earlier, but looked like it had been looted since. Shelves were cleared. Foot items were scattered about. Patches of broken glass lied on the floor. Darcy prayed the destruction was caused by mob mentality, and not a temper tantrum from a very angry god.

Jane popped back around the corner. "How's the hip?"

"Not broken," replied Darcy. "What's going on outside?"

"I didn't see anything, but…"

"Yeah, we are totally staying in here for the time being. Though I'm not sure I want to be in here either." Darcy rubbed her face. Post-adrenaline exhaustion was beginning to set in, and she wasn't sure how much more adventure she could handle. "God, what do you think that was?"

Jane sat down. "Something tells me it isn't… local."

"Maybe a little out of this world?"

Jane sighed. "This was a terrible idea, wasn't it?"

"I tried to warn you." Darcy sniffed. "But A+ for effort?"

Jane smiled tightly. "Come on. Let's see if Loki stuck around. Do you remember where you left him?"

"Canned soups," said Darcy. She pulled herself up to her feet, and bit back a moan when her hip throbbed in protest.

Jane left her backpack at the register, and they set off for aisle 3.

Darcy tiptoed along in her best approximation of stealth mode. Something squelched under her boot on her second step, and she froze in place, heart pounding at a double time. Jane looked back at her with wide, frustrated eyes, but when nothing leapt out at them, they moved on.

It didn't take long to get there, or to figure out that aisle 3 was empty. They searched the entire store, checked the stocking room, meats and seafood, and the bakery, but Loki was nowhere to be found. They circled back to the starting point, disappointment evident on Jane's face.

It quickly dawned on Darcy that they were essentially trapped. Going back outside would be a risk. A risk Darcy was sure Jane would not take unless they had proof that whatever had roared was long, long gone. She thought of Erik, all alone in the lab, with the meager food supplies, and wished they had convinced him to come.

"So what do we do now?" asked Darcy.

"Scream in frustration?" Jane let out a long-suffering sigh. She walked over to the exact spot where Loki had fallen earlier, and picked up a can of the veggie medley. She stared at it like it held the world's secrets, her mouth downturned, and her eyebrows drawn together.

It almost broke Darcy's heart, but they hadn't even been close to solving the snowmaggedon issue. A hunch was just a hunch when all you could do was twiddle your thumbs and watch the snow fall. The Casket might be real, but they were in New Mexico—thousands of miles away from Norway, where, presumably, the ancient relic was being held. And Loki, their only dubious hope, was gone.

"I'm not sure why I'm so disappointed," said Jane.

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "I'm not sure why, either."

"I really believe he would've helped us." Jane set the can back on the shelf. "He saved me, Darcy. He could've let me die at any point on that other realm. But he didn't. Doesn't that count for something?"

"One good deed doesn't undo everything," said Darcy. "I know Thor has been campaigning for his brother's honor and all, but…  _eh_. Everyone loves a good redemption story. I just don't think he's the type."

Darcy clapped her hands together. "Mmkay, enough frowning. Let's find a phone and see if it works."

 

 

\--

 

"Oh my god. We got dial tone. We got dial tone, Jane!"

"What? Really? Are you sure that's the right number?"

"Positive. I punched it in, like, a thousand times when I called earlier. Hey—gimme back the phone!"

"No. Just sit down and mind your hip, grandma," said Jane, cradling the handheld between her head and shoulder.

Darcy glowered. Her sarcastic streak was rubbing off on Jane in all the wrong ways.

"I'm gonna get something to munch on," she said. "You want anything? The sales today are bonkers."

Jane waved her off with an eye roll.

Darcy hobbled towards the snacks. Most of the good stuff was gone already, but a whole section of "health bars" remained untouched. She searched for a while, and eventually found a granola bar that didn't sound completely stomach turning. She tore the packet open and took a bite.

"Ack, nasty," she said around a mouthful of sticky grain. She swallowed what she could, and tucked the bar into her coat pocket. Desperate times called for desperate dining, she thought, and picked up a box to take back to the register, which currently served as their home base.

She turned around, and promptly bumped face-first into a solid chest. She pulled back, her default "watch where you're going" on the tip of her tongue, then promptly swallowed her words.

Loki's hand shot out to cover her mouth. He pulled her towards him and crushed her to his chest before she could even coordinate herself enough to struggle. She tried to pry the hand away from her mouth, screaming all the while, but all that came out was a muffled moan. She took rapid sniffs of air in through her nose, feeling like a helpless rabbit in the jaws of a wolf.

"Fear suits you," he said, as if complimenting her on her choice of clothes, and Darcy's knees decided that Loki whispering freaky shit to her was as good a time as any to give out.

"Now, now, there is no need to swoon," he scolded, easily keeping her on her feet. "I will let you go in a moment, and you will remain silent. I bear you no ill will, though we both know I should, don't we? So trust me when I say it's in your best interest to behave. Do you understand?"

Darcy's stomach twisted, and she nodded as much as she could.

Loki did as he'd promised, and it took all of Darcy's gumption to stay upright. She took a step back, staring resolutely at the top button of his suit. She wanted to scream her head off, but fear held her tongue. He scared her more than anything ever had before, and Darcy's immediate reaction was to find a reason to stall, to calculate the distance she needed to escape. He was so much taller than her that running away would have been a clear lesson in futility. And, from the way his eyes followed her every minute movement, he understood that fact very well.

Was this the type of person they wanted to ask for help?

Loki sighed, and then said, "Thor is in peril."

Darcy's eyes snapped up to his. It was like he'd read her mind. The expression he wore was hard, like it had taken all of his pride to divulge this information to her. But he was the God of lying, Darcy reminded herself. He'd say anything to get his way. "Why did you grab me?" she asked instead.

"Compliance is easily gained by invoking fear," he explained.

Darcy pressed her lips together, and backed up another step. "Fear doesn't make me want to lead you to Jane."

"No need.  _Jane_  is in front, speaking with an imbecile," he said, and waggled his finger at her. "Don't scream. You promised to behave."

"You orchestrated this whole thing, didn't you? The snow?" Darcy's scalp prickled. She could practically feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her muscles twitched, aching to give into her fight-or-flight response.

"While I'm partial to the cold, eternal winter is… not quite the direction I would've taken with Midgard," he said, looking oddly amused by Darcy's questions. "If I'm not mistaken, Jane Foster has discovered the fable of the Casket of Ancient Winters, and she's come here to request my aid."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I returned to this pathetic realm to ask for hers."

Darcy gaped.

"You've taken me for a liar, which I am," said Loki, inclining his head, "but I speak the truth where Thor is concerned."

"Okay. Thor's in trouble… why are you telling  _me_  this?"

"You are an ally of Thor," he replied plainly, and Darcy felt like she had missed one big social cue. Considering that he came from an entirely different universe, it probably was the case.

Loki took a step towards her. "We could have avoided this entire situation if you had taken me to Jane Foster when I had first asked."

Was he trying to  _guilt_  her?

"This is  _not_  happening," said Darcy, under her breath.

"Oh, but it is. Now that I've extended my good faith to the companion of Jane Foster—that would be  _you_ —I request an audience with her immediately."

Darcy raised her eyebrows. Was he for real? Did he think she was some kind of handmaiden? Granted, she pretty much  _was_ , in a modern setting, but still. Darcy figured she had two options: take his words at face value and follow through with Jane's plan, or run like the dickens and face the consequences (and his wrath). She rocked on the balls of her feet, and reminded herself that the whole of Earth was at stake.

"Well?" he prompted.

"The front… is that way." She pointed, wondering exactly how much trouble she was getting herself into.

Loki smiled. It was entirely too self-satisfied.

Darcy scowled. She still didn't trust him one bit.


	3. The Liar, the Witch and the Wormhole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge shoutout to [Yavannie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavannie/pseuds/Yavannie). Without her this chapter might not have seen the light of day. Seriously. Please go check out her amazing story, [Shine Without Fear](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1106704/chapters/2226856).

Despite practically demanding that Darcy announce him with trumpets, Loki didn’t wait for her before gracefully turning on his heel and walking away.

Darcy blinked after his retreating back, wondering what the hell he was up to. There wasn’t much else to do but follow, so she took a deep breath and broke into a slow jog to catch up. Scaring her to assert his dominance or whatever had been a dick move, and she still didn’t trust him further than she could throw him, but if Jane thought he could help—well, it was too late for them to run screaming.

They rounded the corner, and Darcy called out. Jane spun around on cue, phone held up against her ear. She was poised to yell, but, instead of snapping, her eyes went wide.

Darcy flapped her hand in Loki’s direction. “Look who I found.”

“Jane,” said Loki. “You look well.”

The silence that ensued was stretched out and uncomfortable. Darcy looked over to gauge Loki’s reaction. If he had been expecting anything other than a cold reception, he was hiding his disappointment extremely well.

Darcy cleared her throat. “Um, Jane? Sidebar.”

Jane didn’t move.

Darcy strode forward and pulled her off to the side. “Could you look any more disappointed?”

Jane glanced over in Loki’s direction. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Darcy huffed. “You’re not having seconds thoughts.”

“I’m not?”

“Absolutely not. Thor’s in trouble.”

Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Loki stepped in. “Your theory of the Casket is true. The Jotun have invaded Midgard with the intention of turning it into a subsidiary of Jotunheim.”

“What does that have to do with Thor?” asked Jane.

“Thor declined the throne of Asgard, in turn taking full responsibility for Midgard and whatever _troubles_ it befalls. Thor went to battle against the Snow Queen, but he fell, with a shard of ice to his heart. He is still alive, but he won’t be for long.”

Darcy let the information sink in, and placed a comforting hand on Jane’s back. Jane’s disbelieving expression had transformed into one of dread and worry. It was a look Darcy remembered vividly from when the events of New York had broadcasted. Loki, too, looked upset. His face was drawn, pinched, like he was truly disturbed by Thor’s situation. Still, Darcy couldn’t help but feel like he was phoning those emotions in.

“You’ve been looking for me,” said Jane. “Why?”

“The ice that pierced him is no ordinary ice. It turns the heart black with hate, and the blood in the veins cold. There is only one thing that can break the curse—one thing powerful enough against this ancient evil.” Loki paused, and then said, “Love.”

“Are you kidding me?” Darcy choked out. “This isn’t Disney.”

Loki rounded on her. “It will work.” He turned back to Jane. “Jane Foster, you have only to kiss Thor, and he will return to us.”

It was the most preposterous solution Darcy had ever heard. _Ever_. True love’s kiss belonged in a fairytale, where little squirrels braided hair and random dudes joined your solo and transformed it into a heartwarming duet. She expected Jane, who ate, slept, and breathed scientific theory, to scoff, or flip Loki the bird.

Instead, Jane puffed up and asked, “What’s your plan?”

“We must travel to the Snow Queen’s realm. I have the ability to close the Casket, and find where they are keeping Thor.”

Jane contemplated his words, and then said, “How are we supposed to get there?”

“If you say ‘walk’, I am going to be so pissed,” said Darcy.

Loki smiled tightly. “There is an ancient portal here. I can activate it, but I require a power source. You have been working on a device similar to the Bifrost that will work just as well.”

Jane frowned. “Can’t you conjure us there?”

“There is a price for shadow walking. I have traveled all along Yggdrasil’s branches, and paid my blood-price twice over. My debt is paid, and I may go as I please. You two, on the other hand, would burn to ashes if I ‘conjured’ you anywhere.”  
  
Jane wrung her hands together. “Okay. Fine. Good.”

“Time is of the essence,” urged Loki.

“Show me how you’re going to activate the portal, and I’ll let you use whatever you need at the lab.”

Loki nodded his consent.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Does no one remember that crazy roar an hour ago? Anyone? Bueller? _Something_ is out there, and I’m pretty sure it’s here for one of us. Isn’t there an alternative to the lab?”

“I wouldn’t have wasted my breath if there was.”

Jane turned to her with pleading eyes that merely said: _Thor_.

It was a bad idea, if Darcy had ever heard one, but how could she say no?

 

 

\--

 

 

The wind howled.

Darcy stood in the lobby, partially hidden by the shelving, arms held tightly across her chest. The wind had kicked up fiercely, battering angrily against the windows in intervals, but there was no sign of snowfall to come. It was a very, very small comfort, knowing that she’d eventually have to brave the outside again.

She was, to put it simply, freezing her ass off. The adrenaline of running, and then running into Loki, had tapered off a while ago, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t get the warmth back into her limbs. She stomped her feet, and wiggled her toes, but the track pants she’d slipped over her jeans were stiff, and her boots were nearly frozen solid.

It was official: Darcy Lewis hated snow and all things winter, and she was _so_ moving to the Bahamas when this was all over.

Loki and Jane were currently in deep discussion between the registers, Loki showing Jane his plans, as promised. Darcy had let them be the moment foreign terminology began to fly. In a surprising turn of events, Loki was rather quick on the uptake. It had only taken an explanation or two on Jane’s part before he would mention an Asgardian equivalent, if there was one.

Darcy wanted to be suspicious. She wanted to hover, and make sure he wasn’t warping Jane’s mind with whatever voodoo magic he possessed. But right now, all she cared about was that Loki was onboard with the operation. The whys and hows had been swirling around her head from the moment he’d said she was an ally of Thor, but she had to admit that she was too mentally exhausted to break them down. The rapid-fire events of late were taking longer than a heartbeat to digest.

All she had wanted was six measly credits. Something exciting to fill the summer months between junior and senior year, expand her horizons, and get her academics advisor off her back in one fell swoop. Jane Foster’s Crazy Astrophysics Clinic in New Mexico had looked like a blessing on paper—but, somehow, three months of monkey work had morphed into the Defining Factor in Darcy’s life.

It was sad, but ultimately true. Her adult life was one strange evolution after another: Thor, the Destroyer, Tromsø, New York, London, and, most recently, the Frost Giants and the No Good, Evil Eternal Winter. It was the greatest premise for a novel she would never be allowed to write.

She glanced over her shoulder. Jane was bent over the conveyor belt, scribbling furiously on a notepad Darcy had found in the back office. Loki, on the other hand, was looking directly at her. They caught eyes. Darcy quickly looked away. He did _intense_ with a certain finesse Darcy appreciated on a fundamental level, but it was unnerving being on the receiving end of it.

She turned back to the window, and pressed her lips together.

 

\--

 

The hike back to the lab was easy going. Darcy hated to admit it, but she felt safer with Loki around. Granted, she had a hunch he would abandon them the second trouble popped up, but still.

The worst part was watching him navigate the snow like it was no big deal. She was a frozen, shivering messes, her breaths puffing out white with each drawn-out exhale. Loki, in contrast, looked completely at home. It was unnerving, watching someone do everything with absolute ease and comfort. She was sure he could climb Mount Everest no problem, and in his ridiculously fitted suit to boot.

The door to the lab was frozen shut, and it took a shove from Loki’s shoulder for it to budge—and then slam open.

Jane immediately ran to the whiteboard, and began drawing out equations from the frozen notepad she’d recovered from the snow.

Loki walked in after her, dropping the backpack on a swivel chair. He continued around the room slowly, arms folded at the small of his back. He joined Jane a moment later, observing her longhand before picking up a marker and popping the top off. Darcy fully expected him to sniff the tip at some point.

She sighed, hardly believing they made it back to the lab in one piece. The warm fuzzies didn’t last long, however.

Erik stumbled out from the back, took one good look at Loki, and then shouted, “What the _hell_ is _he_ doing here?”

Jane dropped her marker with a gasp.

Darcy shrugged.

Loki merely looked confused.

Erik pointed an accusatory finger at the three of them, trembling—in fear or rage, Darcy wasn’t too sure. “You! You said you were going outside to extrapolate data!”

Darcy felt like she got caught sneaking back into the house via the second floor window way past curfew.

“We did. Technically,” said Darcy. “But it was all a ruse to find Thor’s _charming_ brother.”

Jane shot her a venomous glare, and then turned her best guilty look on Erik. “I can explain.”

“Damn right you’ll explain,” grumbled Erik.

But they didn’t have to—not right then, at least. The trembling in Erik’s hand worsened, his face turned a sickly white, and then he crumpled to the floor.

Darcy gaped. “Oh my freakin’ God. Did you just give Erik a stroke?”

 

\--

 

Turns out, it had only been a fainting attack. Erik had woken five minutes later, even more livid than before. Jane had begged Darcy to calm him down in her stead—a feat that had taken Darcy a solid hour. He currently sat on his cot, blanket draped over his bare legs, red in the face. The cowlick at the back of his head was as bad as ever, and he still staunchly refused the wear of pants—but at least he was sitting, and no longer ranting in Swedish (at least, Darcy _thought_ it was Swedish). A victory was a victory.

“I am very disappointed in you two.”

 _I hate my life_. Darcy swung the plastic chair around, the legs scraping loudly on the linoleum, and sat down. “I know. I suck. And I’m sorry we lied. Well, we really only omitted the truth. For science, or whatever. And it wasn’t my fault, I swear. You, of all people, know how Jane gets when she sets a flame under her own ass. A boulder couldn’t stop her when she’s set on something. Loki’s—“

“Don’t say that name around me,” snapped Erik.

Darcy winced, backing off immediately.

He colored faintly, and then deflated. “I’m sorry.”

She crossed her arms over the back of the chair. “I know it’s—it must be hard on you. Having him here. But we need his help. I told you Thor’s, like, dying, remember? Jane’s been cast as Prince Charming, and He-Who-Won’t-Be-Named is our evil fairy godmother. He can get us to Norway.”

Erik was silent for a very, very long time. “Don’t trust him.”

“I don’t.”

“And don’t let him touch you, or Jane.”

Darcy pulled a face. “What?”

“He put himself in my head for months with one touch. The whispers never stop, and they can’t fix you. Be careful. And please look after Jane, for me.”

“You could come.”

“No. I can’t.”

Darcy tilted her head back. The ceiling was pockmarked, and likely filled with asbestos. When had this become her life? Everything that was supposed to be _not real_ had frustratingly weaseled itself into reality. The fantastical sheen had worn down, and the life-threatening situations were becoming more troublesome than magical. She closed her eyes. She was so tired.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” said Darcy. “Holler if you need anything, okay?”

Erik waved her off.

The cot in the break room was uncomfortable, but it didn’t take long before Darcy slipped into sleep. She jolted awake a solid two hours later, immediately grabbing for her phone. There was no signal, of course, and she slipped it back into her pocket with a disappointed sigh.

Darcy stretched, rolling the stiffness out of her shoulders and neck. Jane would have woken her if she’d needed anything, but Darcy found it odd that she hadn’t checked on her once.

Loki and Jane were missing from the main room, but the whiteboard was completely covered. The black chicken scratch was familiar, Jane’s. A foreign handwriting—a crisp, elegant green—was interjected between formulas. It must have been Loki’s.

“Jane?”

Her eyes swept the lab, trying to suppress the panic that welled up in her stomach at the lack of response. The generator prototype Jane had been working on was gone. Darcy knew Jane would never, ever set-up without her—and that’s when she knew: they were planning to leave without her, if they hadn’t already. 

Darcy hurried to the back. She gave the double doors an angry push, and almost slipped on the ice patch over the concrete ramp on her way out. To her great relief, both Jane and Loki were outside, as was the generator. No small feat, as it weighed close to five hundred pounds.

She composed herself quickly—her anxiety quickly igniting into bitch mode.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” She had to scream over the wind.

Jane, the brat, didn’t even bother turning around. She was hooking cables and wires to the generator. “It’s safer if you stay here.”

“Are you kidding me? ‘Safer’? Safe was before Thor, before all _this_ —“ Darcy waved her arms wildly. “If you think I’m going to let you flounce around the universe without me, _again_ , you are totally kidding yourself!”

Loki sighed, the perfect picture of annoyed. “You’ve served your purpose.” 

“Bullshit,” she snapped. “I’m coming.”

Jane stood. “Can you stop being stubborn for five seconds?”

“Can you stop being selfish for one?”

Darcy loved Jane—she really did. But sometimes she was very shortsighted, forgetting that other people could help, or that they wanted to.

The standoff didn’t last long, however. Loki, who had been hanging on the outskirts, firmly grabbed Darcy’s forearm.

“Hey!” she cried, trying to shake him off. Jane, too, protested. 

Loki paid them no attention, and his grip of Darcy didn’t lessen in the slightest. His gaze was turned towards the snowdrifts across the desert. He frowned. 

“Get back inside,” he commanded. 

Darcy tried to yank her arm away to no avail. “No.”

“What’s going on?” asked Jane. She looked to where Loki’s gaze was fixed.

Darcy squinted. Then, like something out of a bad dream, she saw a dark shape loping towards them, gaining size by the second. White, sharp-toothed, slobbering, and no doubt hungry for human and/or Asgardian flesh. It roared, loud, drawn out, and—yup, they were going to die.

Loki dropped her arm, Jane lunged towards the 50 volt cables, and Darcy stumbled backwards in shock.

She was _not_ going to be some _thing’s_ meal. “We gotta go back inside!”

Jane ignored her, instead flipping the giant switch on the generator. It whirred to life, the side panel illuminating with a green that Darcy imagined as a giant sign pointing towards them, exclaiming, “Eat us!”

Loki held his hand out in front of him.

Darcy grabbed Jane’s arms. “We are two seconds away from being snacks!”

“Just _wait_.”

Darcy’s entire body began to tingle, her ears rang, and she was a heartbeat away from hauling Jane over her shoulder and making a break for it. But before she could, a giant rip of electric blue buzzed into existence out of the nothingness above them. A draft, colder than the one they were standing in, whipped out from the tear.

Darcy’s jaw dropped. “Wormhole. It’s a freakin’ wormhole.”

Jane grinned wide. “Cool, huh?”

“I guess we can die now.” 

But dying wasn’t in the cards for them—not today. Snow in front of Loki rose from the ground. Higher and higher, then, with a great shake, the snow fell away to reveal a small Viking-style boat.

Loki dropped his arm, panting hard. He guided the boat with a light touch towards the wormhole. Darcy realized with a start that it was actually levitating off the ground.

“Get in,” he commanded. 

They didn’t have to be asked twice. The three of them hopped in—Jane at the front, Loki in the rear, and Darcy settling in the middle. She twisted around, just in time to see the monster leap over the snow bluff and land by the dumpsters.

The boat was swallowed by black and blue a moment later, and not a second too soon.


	4. The Watermill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [Yavannie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavannie/pseuds/Yavannie) for beta reading this.

Space was _awesome_. 

The boat sped through the wormhole, the entire universe blurring as they rocketed by. Stars, planets, and was that a snake? Darcy gripped tightly onto the rail, the skin over her knuckles turning white from the force. Laughter bubbled up in her throat, but the wind carried her voice away.

The boat tipped suddenly to one side. She yelped and clamped down on the wood even harder than before. Call it an instinct, but she had a feeling Loki was about to drop them from the sky, and  drop they did—the boat spinning wildly, air whistling past her ears.

The boat slammed down without any preamble, and Darcy tumbled sideways on impact. Water sloshed over the lip of the boat. She pulled herself up, and saw that Jane was in much the same state as her. “Are you okay?”

Jane patted herself down. “I think so.”

They looked at one another, and then out at the river they were now slowly gliding along. It was obvious that they were not in Norway, and quite probably a long way from Earth. The snow of New Mexico had been replaced with greenery. Darcy had to shade her eyes from the overwhelming sunshine.

“Dude,” she breathed.

“Where are we?” asked Jane.

Loki dipped his fingers into the water. “A long way off of our intended target.”

“How far?”

He leaned back. “A world or two away.”

“Be more specific.”

“We are in Vanaheim, on the river Don.”

“Vanaheim!” cried Jane.

“It was either here, or the jaws of a snow beast.”

She flushed red. “You promised to get us to Thor, and we couldn’t be further from.”

“Vanaheim wasn’t my first choice, I’ll grant you that. However, appearing out of thin air in Norway would have been foolish. The Snow Queen expects an assault. There is a way back to Midgard from this realm, in the mountains.”

“I thought you said ‘time is of the essence’”, snapped Jane. “ _Thor_ is dying. We don’t have time to realm-hop, and I don’t have another generator in my pocket to give you.”

Loki didn’t reply.

Darcy expected Jane to rant and rave some more, but she turned around quickly, wobbling the boat to and fro, and slid closer to the helm.

Loki dipped his fingers back into the water, his mouth set in a tight line. His facial expressions thus far had ranged from ‘mildly annoyed’ to ‘greatly annoyed’, but now he looked almost… concerned.

Darcy frowned.

She peeled off her beanie and shook her hair out. Wherever they were, the sun was thoroughly roasting her. It was just her luck that she would barely get used to the cold, and a wormhole would dump her in the tropics. She shrugged out of her jacket, and shimmied out of her track pants. Sweat was beginning to break out along her hairline and upper lip. Divesting layers helped, but only just so.

“Man, it’s hot,” she commented, fanning herself. Neither Jane nor Loki lifted an eyebrow in her direction, or made any attempt at joining her in conversation. She sighed and propped her elbow on the rail.

 _At least the sightseeing_ _’s decent_ , she thought mildly, eyeing her new surroundings.

Vanaheim was breathtaking. 

The river was a crystalline blue, like something out of a travel magazine, and looked like it spanned nearly a mile across. A solitary spider floated along the water’s surface, bobbing in the wake of the Viking boat. Birds chirped in the distance, and she heard the faint rustle of trees dancing in the breeze. A doe waded down the muddy bank as one of its friends watched warily by the tree line.

A snowcapped mountain stood proudly in the distance, jutting out from behind rolling hills. Dark clouds drifted in front of it, hiding the peak from sight. She saw several flashes of light burst from behind the cloud cover, like a contained lightning storm. She pursed her lips as déjà vu struck her, the phenomena much like the ones Jane had studied before Thor had arrived. She turned to address Jane, but was blocked by the hunched set of her shoulders.

Darcy flipped her hair over her shoulder, relishing in the faint breeze against her neck. She had never seen a biosphere like this on Earth—dense forest on one side, flat grasslands on the other, and where the weather felt like the Amazon.

Why _had_ Loki brought them here?

Her first thought was deception, but her gut told her it wasn’t so. In fact, she had a strange feeling that he _couldn_ _’t_ have brought them anywhere else. She glanced over her shoulder. Loki’s hand was still in the water. He looked awful. The sickly pallor he’d had in the grocery store had not gone away under the glowing sun of Vanaheim. His lips were chapped, his suit rumpled. The green scarf was gone, too.

There was something amiss, but Darcy couldn’t quite put the puzzle pieces together. Not yet, anyway.

 

\--

 

Hours passed. Neither Jane nor Loki talked, and every attempt Darcy made at striking up a thoughtful conversation (because, really, they couldn’t float down a river forever) had been squashed. Every so often, Jane would sigh loudly, or suck her teeth. Her ticks were slowly chipping away at Darcy’s sanity.

She was hungry, and parched. The river water looked fine to drink, but the threat of dysentery outweighed her thirst. Her stomach growled angrily at the thought, and she pouted at her own reflection.

 _The granola bar_.

She nearly leapt out of her seat to grab at her jacket. She pawed through the pockets, astutely ignoring Loki’s annoyed glare and Jane’s harrumph, and almost squealed in triumph when her fingers brushed the wrapper. She wiggled in her seat, ready to devour in the whole thing. Her conscience caught up with her soon enough, however, and she grumpily snapped off three equal pieces.

She scooted forwards, and waved the food in front of Jane’s face. “Nom noms.”

“Darcy!” admonished Jane, but she snatched the morsel from Darcy’s fingertips anyway. “This tastes… strange.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty gross, but I am _starved_.” She scooted back around, and held the other piece out towards Loki. “Here ya go.”

He eyed her hand like she was offering him dirt.

“I know you people like to eat.”

He gave a long-suffering sigh, and then held his hand out. Darcy dropped the sad, little piece in his palm with a self-satisfied smile. It looked like a crumb when he held it, but peace tidings came in all shapes and sizes.

“So… can we drop the cold shoulder routine?” she asked, pointedly raising her eyebrows at Jane. “We need a plan, and we all need to be on the same page.”

Jane crossed her arms.

“The snowmelt from the mountain has long passed,” said Loki. “The current is slow. It will take a long while to reach our destination.”

“Why don’t we paddle to shore,” ventured Jane, “if the current’s so slow? Walk the rest of the way.”

“We are much safer here than on land, for now.”

Darcy splashed the water some. “Let me guess: evil bears lurk in the woods.”

“The bears are perfectly cordial. The Vanir, on the other hand, are not. There is a sorceress who lives near the Vana Fork who owes me a favor. We won’t make it there for a while yet—by nightfall, if we are lucky. Rest. I will stand watch.”

Darcy bit her lip. As far as she knew, she had been the last one to sleep any length of time. “I’ll stay up. You two need the sleep.”

“Are you sure?” asked Jane.

She nodded.

Loki and Jane settled down soon after. Jane borrowed Darcy’s jacket for a pillow and curled up like a cat on the wooden bench. Loki leaned back, folded his hands in his lap, and closed his eyes. It was so sunny and so hot that Darcy doubted that either of them could get any real rest, but she soon heard Jane’s breathing level out. As for Loki—well, she tried not to think about him.

Darcy’s fingers danced along the rail, dipping and swirling along the delicate carvings in the wood.

A caw off in the distance caught her attention, and she turned her head to see a black bird fluttering down onto a high treetop. Though it was too far away for Darcy to see properly, she had an uncanny feeling that it was specifically there for them. It cawed again, and took off with a stuttering hop. It dived, and arced away sharply. Darcy watched it go until it was a black speck in the sky, a frown on her face. _You're paranoid, Lewis. It's just a bird._

They floated along the placid river for hours. Darcy was terribly bored, and half tempted to settle down for a nap herself. There hadn’t been any danger thus far. In fact, there hadn’t been a sign of human life the entire way. Rivers on Earth (or was it more appropriate to call it Midgard?) were notorious for having towns peppered along the way, but there hadn’t been one face to be seen yet.

The current picked up as the sun was sinking below the horizon. The river was slowly coming together at a chokepoint up ahead, and the low sloping riverbanks were beginning to ascend into a tall rock cliff on either side. It was a bad spot to get trapped, she thought—and a perfect place to launch an ambush from above. She squinted, barely able to make out what looked like the backside of two enormous statues carved into the white stone. The visual was alarmingly familiar, and her eyes widened when she finally placed it. _Oh my god. I’m officially in The Lord of the Rings._

She turned in her seat to wake Loki, only to find him already alert and looking at the cliffs. His eyes trailed off, and landed squarely on her.

“Should we be concerned?” she asked, indicating forward. “I feel like an arrow to the face would be pretty detrimental to our adventure.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” replied Loki. “The gates haven’t been manned for nearly a millennia.”

_I am totally Sam.  
_

They drifted between the statues. Steel gates were set into the platforms, with enormous iron cranks on either side. Precarious-looking staircases ran down each of the rock faces, switch-backing until they reached the devices. Darcy felt sorry for whoever had had to traverse them. The gates were obviously there to block traffic along the river, but they were rusted over, and looked like they hadn’t been used in hundreds of years. Just like Loki had said.

She craned her neck back. Chiseled into the rock was a stern face, left arm crossed over his chest, a longsword pointed down next to his foot. The top of the man’s head was sun-bleached, while his feet were dark from where the water lapped against his sandals.

“Who is that?” she asked.

“That is Njord,” replied Loki. “He was once king of the Vanir.”

Darcy pointed to his counterpart. “And him?”

“That is Odin,” he said tersely.

Darcy leaned back, studying this depiction of Loki’s father and another king. Njord, she had never heard of. But Odin—boy, _had_ she heard of him. Jane had painted a pretty solid picture, of both his visual countenance and his general douchey demeanor. What she saw before her was a much younger Norse god, with both of his eyes unscathed. Thor favored him, but she didn’t see any Odin in Loki. Strange, but not impossible—or even implausible. Who knew what genetics got up to in alien worlds, after all?

Still, she eyed Loki. He watched her with lazy interest, but it felt like he wanted her to say aloud what she was thinking: Where Thor was blond and broad-shouldered, Loki was wiry and dark. Two completely different sides of the same coin. If he were any other jerk with daddy issues, she would have spoken her mind. Instead, she held her tongue (a miraculous feat), and looked beyond the helm of the boat. The sun was almost beneath the horizon, the sky painted a burned orange. Upriver, she saw a small island that split the Don in half. She looked back, and Loki gave her a barely perceptible nod. _I guess this is our stop._

She prodded Jane with her foot. She stirred awake.

Loki dropped his hand into the water once more. The boat listed to the right and drifted slowly towards the riverbank, a force stronger than the current prodding it along. The boat beached itself, high enough none of them had to worry about getting wet, and the three climbed out. As soon as they were safely on land, the Viking boat transformed back into snow, and melted back into the river with a faint green glimmer. Loki, too, glowed green—and Darcy watched in awe as his business suit shimmered away into his regular leather armor. He reached into his tunic and pulled out an oil-skinned parchment, unrolled it, and crouched on the grass.

A three dimensional map popped up from the parchment as soon as his fingers touched it. He flicked his finger along the map, spinning the blue, sparkling diagram too quickly for Darcy to properly get a full grasp of what he was looking at. She could see a Nordic rune or two mixed in there, but she might as well have been asked to decipher Egyptian hieroglyphs, for all the sense it made to her (actually, she might not to do bad on that front, thanks to a semester dating an archaeology undergrad, a minor addiction to Wikipedia, and a deep and unending drive towards procrastination).

“What kind of tech is that?” Jane asked, squatting down next to Loki. “Is that a hologram? How did you get it so small?” 

“It is a simple spell, and one I don’t have time to explain,” he replied. “We need to travel to the Eiglophian Mountain. There is an alcove on the second step that should bring us to the back to Midgard.”

“I thought you said we were meeting a friend,” said Darcy. “We’re on the fork, aren’t we?”

“The fork is much further down the river. It would be much too dangerous to continue on the river channel. All magic leaves a trace, and I’m afraid mine is distinct in these parts. Come.” Loki stood. “We seek a watermill, and its enchantress.”

Darcy shot Jane a look. It went without saying, but they didn't have any other choice. They pressed on into the woods.

Before they passed into what looked like the beginning of a trailhead, Darcy heard a familiar caw. The black bird—and she was willing to bet her beanie it was the same one from before—was perched close by on a stump, following the three of them with its knowing eye. “This is the second time I’ve seen that bird,” she said.

“Forests _do_ have animals, Darcy.” Jane looked at the bird. “And I’m pretty sure that’s a crow.”

“But the same one? Following us?” She turned to Loki. “Are the crows as friendly as the bears?”

“Not unless they have a good reason to be. Crows can be nefarious little creatures, and often work under the thumb of necromancers.”

Loki didn’t look worried, but the thought of a zombie puppet master sent a straight shiver down Darcy’s spine. The crow cawed again. Darcy hoped her imagination was running wild, but she was starting to get a pretty bad feeling about all of this. 

\--

 

They traveled under the light of the moon, slogging slowly in the direction Loki had set forth. Darcy’s hunger was back in full force. They had stopped at a brook earlier and drunk their fill, at which point Darcy had stopped caring about poisoning herself (1 point thirst, 0 points Darcy). She wasn’t sure how Jane had the energy to keep on without food, but Darcy needed something more substantial than a measly granola bar to last her the entire adventure.

They reached their destination without any fanfare. The watermill looked abandoned (oh, and totally freakin' creepy). A solitary window faced them, and no light shone through. To Darcy, it looked like a murder cabin in a B-horror movie. Loki seemingly didn't feel the same way, as he walked confidently up the steps, and waved them along to follow. Darcy looked over her shoulder, and shivered. There was something _off_ about the house.

“Is anyone home?” asked Jane.

Loki lit the candle that hung by the wall with a swish of his finger. A warm glow filled the cabin. It was easy to tell that no one had lived in the mill for a very long time—or whoever occupied it went to great lengths to make it appear that way. Cobwebs covered the ceiling, and dust was heavily settled over the furniture. A set of boot prints crisscrossed the floor, slightly less dusty than the rest of the house, but still very old.

Loki turned in a slow circle. The candle flickered, casting his face in sharp relief. “I was expecting a warmer welcome.”

Darcy swiped a trail of dust off the table. “Should we leave?”

“No,” replied Loki. “We’ll stay here tonight.”

There wasn’t much to the house. It sat directly next to the river, its giant wheel creaking under the flow of water. A set of rickety stairs let to the second floor, which wasn't more than another dusty, abandoned room. Both Jane and Darcy agreed (without asking for Loki's input, of course) that it would be theirs for the night. They found a tiny bathtub, and both of them cheered when clean-looking water poured from the spout.

All day of sitting in the sun, and traveling made Darcy a dirty girl, but she let Jane go ahead of her in favor of snooping (or inspecting, if you wanted to get technical). A small bed sat in the far corner, along with a dresser, and a wooden chest. She opened all the drawers, examining the miller’s possessions without picking them up. The only item of note was a fine-toothed comb. She moved on to the chest next. There was a layer of silk over its contents, which she gingerly removed and placed on the bed. She felt a little guilty, going through someone else's stuff, but she didn’t want to stay in Earth clothes for the remainder of the trip.

After a time, Jane cracked the bathroom door open and stepped out. “All yours. I already drained the tub and started the water for you.”

“Cool beans.” Darcy held up the tunic against her chest. “Check out the digs. You should wear the red one. It kind of looks like flannel.”

Jane picked up the shirt. She looked one part dubious and one part scandalized “We can’t wear these, Darcy.” 

“Why not?”

“They’re someone else’s. It’s stealing.”

“Consider it borrowing then. We need to blend in. Loki said the locals aren’t too friendly. If we wear _local_ clothes, maybe we can pretend we come from up the river instead of an entirely different planet?”

“Fine. I’ll change.” Jane wrinkled her nose. “Go take a bath. You stink.”

By the time Darcy had scrubbed the sweat of the day thoroughly off, her fingers and toes were pruned and the water was cold. She climbed out of the tub and wrapped a threadbare towel around her body.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that Jane wasn't in the room, but it settled as soon as she heard muffled discussion downstairs. Jane and Loki, conspiring together. _The world just keeps getting stranger and stranger._ She sighed, and went about looking presentable. She slowly combed her wet hair, delicately working out the snarls (from the looks of it, millers in Vanaheim didn’t do conditioner). Once that task was complete and her scalp sore, she changed into the miller’s clothes: tights, a long tunic, and a leather belt cinched at the waist. The sports bra stayed on, but everything else she folded and left on the floor for tomorrow. There was no way she would survive the cold in her current borrowed attire.

She padded down the stairs. Loki and Jane were talking over the magical map. The main room was completely transformed. The cobwebs were gone, and a fire was roaring in a pit she hadn’t even realized was there. _Magical housework. I can dig it._

“Did I miss anything?” she asked.

Both Jane and Loki looked up. A strange look pinched at Loki’s face, and Jane gave her a relieved smile.

“We’re really close to the mountain,” said Jane. “There’s a boat in the dock that we can take straight to the trailhead.”

“It’s an option,” corrected Loki. “Taking the river will bring us directly to the mountain fortress, a place we must avoid at all cost.” 

“What other choice do we have?” asked Darcy.

“There is always another way,” he said, as if realizing that Darcy was always going to be on Jane’s side.

Darcy went and sat by the window. There wasn’t much to argue about, in her opinion, but Jane launched into a counterpoint. Darcy was surprised Loki was handling her outbursts so well—but she supposed he could be yielding if he needed something done. She sighed, and stared out the glass. The forest was dark, even with the moonlight shining down brightly.

She thought back to the crow, and its knowing eyes. Who was watching them, and why hadn’t they made an appearance yet?

The fire popped, and Darcy followed the glowing ashes as they drifted in the reflection of the glass. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but by the time she drifted out of her own thoughts, Jane was drooping in her seat, and the fire had been reduced to embers.

Jane yawned. “So we have an agreement then?”

Loki inclined his head. “We do.”

“Then I’m going to bed. Good night, Loki. Darcy, you coming up?”

She shook her head. “In a minute.”

Jane hesitated for only a second before continuing up the creaking stairs.

_And then there were two._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


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